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I saw Men of Porn (now abbreviated to just Porn) one Sunday night at O’briens in Allston Rock City a few years back, and they played to like, nobody. Well, ok, me and the bartender, and that’s it. But dig – they still sounded like a fire belching locomotive exploding into space. I bought all their junk and yanked their Mans Ruin poster off the wall that night, and considered myself lucky for being there. See, Porn like to bring the fucking ROCK, Jack, in the most obtuse, get-there-when-we-get-there kinda way, and they’ll do it even if they ain’t any jerks there to RECEIVE the rock. They kick up big ol’ dust storms of drug-fuzz and sheet metal clang for many high noon showdown minutes at a time, and then they burst like supernovas into full-on freak flag dope n’ roll like conquering arena rock heroes. It’s some supersonic sleight-of-hand, and there’s a dozen prime examples here, half of them marching right across the ten-minute mark and collapsing in heaps of feedback sometime later. It’s very much like the live Porn experience, this ‘Wine, Women, and Song’, only you gotta provide the wine and women yrself. Oh, and it’s a concept record, of course, divided into “books”, but I don’t take drugs, so yer gonna have to figure that shit out on your own. But the tunes, that much I can attest to – they roll loose and jagged, like a bowling ball headed for the gutter, that suddenly rights itself with only inches to spare, and knocks ‘em all down, provoking cheers and high-fives all around. If you edited the last 3-4 minutes of each track into a whole ‘nother record, you’d have one brawling motherfucker of a stoner metal album (ok, EP) in classic Drunk Horse/Thunderpussy tradition, but it’s all the dynamic tension and cloud-gathering in the double-wide intros that give this one all it’s personality. It’s one woozy ride, doper. __________________________________________________

-Sleazegrinder